


One Night May be Forever

by ArtemisRayne



Series: May Look at a King - A Newsies Felisian AU [16]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Felisian, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cat/Human Hybrids, Established Relationship, Felisian!Jack, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff, but mostly just fluff, gift-giving, insecure!jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: "Dude, you're like the master of sappy Valentine's Day crap," Specs says, laughing. "How are you suddenly having a romantic existential crisis now?""'Cause this time it ain't just some girl I'm tryna get with," Jack replies. "It'sDavey."





	One Night May be Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Severely out of season Valentine's Day fluff? Yep. I have fallen extremely behind in my original plan of writing and posting things at the time they would've been happening in the real world. Oops. So here, have some four-month late diabetes-inducing fluff. (Somehow I have a feeling you guys aren't going to hold it against me - you guys are seriously the best, you're too good to me.)

"-and I'm going to ruin it all, and then I might as well just die."

From the other end of the sofa, Specs raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "And I thought Romeo was dramatic," he says dryly.

Jack huffs and flops back into the cushion, flicking his tail in agitation. "I'm serious," he whines. "What the fuck'm I s'posed to do?"

Specs laughs and shakes his head. "Dude, you're like the master of Valentine's crap," he says. "All that sappy romantic shit you pulled off in high school for whatever chick you were tryna get with. And _now_ all of a sudden you're having a romantic existential crisis?"

"Well, yeah," Jack responds. "'Cause this time it ain't just some chick I wanna get to third with; it's _Davey_." The felisian rolls onto his side, casting his best sad-puppy face at his friend. "Help? I gotta make it perfect."

"I feel obligated to tell you just how much I'm enjoying this," Specs says, grinning. "I mean, watching you be all pathetically head-over-heels is seriously the funniest shit ever." Jack flattens his ears and chucks a throw pillow at the dancer's head. Specs deflects it, laughing. "Okay, okay, because I'm the greatest best friend ever, I'm gonna talk you down off this ledge," he says. "Also, 'cause I actually really like Davey, and I'll feel bad if I just sit back and let his boyfriend stress himself into an aneurysm."

Jack groans, smashing his face into the sofa back. "Ugh, you're the worst. Why am I friends with you?"

"Because you're an idiot," Specs answers without missing a beat. "And nobody else has the patience to put up with you."

"Eh, pro'lly true," Jack agrees, shrugging.

"Alright, first of all," Specs says with all that natural practicality Jack has always relied on in a crisis, "stop freaking out. Davey won't dump you just because of a stupid holiday." The felisian huffs again, thumping his tail on the sofa cushion in annoyance; he knows that, but that doesn't mean he wants to risk messing this up anyway. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. What have you come up with so far?"

"If I had any good ideas, I wouldn't be askin' you, would I?" Jack retorts, carding a hand into his hair. "All I been able to think of is the stupid normal Valentine's shit, and that's dumb."

Specs nods. "Yeah, Dave doesn't strike me as the chocolates and flowers type," he concedes. "Okay, well, has he hinted at anything he might want?"

"He just says all he wants is to spend time together," the felisian says. "Which ain't helpful. Like, obviously we's gonna hang out that day."

"Ever occur to you that maybe he really does just want to spend time with you?" Specs suggests with a smirk. Jack narrows his eyes. "I mean it. How often do you two get to just hang out? And I mean, no doing homework or at the shop while you're working or whatever. And not with other people around. Like, just a chill date, just you two."

Jack furrows his brow, combing back through his memory. So maybe it's true that they're usually a bit preoccupied, but that's just the way it's always been with them. It's hard to find time to just be chill when they're both so busy with school and work. They might take a break from studying to watch a movie or something, but it's been a while since they've made a day to just be together.

"Fuck, I'm like the worst boyfriend ever," Jack says in horror. "I ain't took him on a date in forever."

Laughing, Specs kicks him lightly in the ankle. "Hey, I'm sure he gets it. You're both busy. But that's what I'm saying. Maybe the best thing you guys can do is, you know, _nothing_. Just nothing together."

The felisian hums thoughtfully. "I mean, I guess so," he agrees. "You sure that isn't totally lame though?"

"C'mon, it's Davey," Specs counters. "He's not exactly an over-the-top kind of guy. I figure he's more one of those 'little gestures' types, right?" Jack smiles, thinking of the cute little bonsai tree on the end of this worktable, an out-of-the-box way of blending Jack's loves of both art and gardening. "So, little gestures," Specs continues. "Give him a nice, lazy night in. For some reason, he _likes_ hanging out with you, so hang out."

"You know, everyone thinks you're so nice, but you're kinda an ass," Jack says, but he can't completely hide his amusement.

"I'm a good actor," Specs says unconcernedly. "Okay, so, crisis averted?"

Jack shrugs. "Yeah, mostly, I guess," he says. "Feels weird not gettin' him something though."

"Alright, if you're gonna get him a present, don't go overboard," the dancer says. "Little gestures, remember? So, think about little things Davey might want. Things he likes, something he wants but doesn't think it's important enough to buy himself. What kinda things does he like?"

"He likes books, 'specially murder mysteries and stuff," Jack says. "And he's weirdly fascinated by crime documentaries and serial killers and stuff. And he likes zen stuff, like candles and music and-" Jack breaks off, eyes widening excitedly. "Oh, fuck yeah, I totally just thought of something."

Specs grins, leaning across the sofa to clap him on the shoulder. "See, there ya go, you got this," he says. "Now you can woo the fuck outta your boyfriend who's totally already over the moon for you." He chuckles, lounging back against the sofa arm. "Okay, now that that's dealt with, can we actually go to the movies like we were gonna an hour ago?" 

* * *

Davey is scrambling as he leaves his dorm and starts the walk to Jack's apartment. He planned to be to Jack's more than a half-hour ago, but his journalism professor caught him as he was leaving class to talk about his midterm project. As much as Davey normally loves talking to his professor, it's Valentine's Day, and he's got plans for once. It still takes forever to slip away from the classroom, and he hastily drops off his backpack and gathers up the little bouquet of flowers he picked up this morning.

Even though he wants to jog, Davey forces himself not to because he doesn't want to sweat. Not that he should really worry about looking good - his cheeks are flushed from the cold weather that still won't let go, and his hair has been destroyed by the wind. (And a voice in his head reminds him that it's just Jack, he wouldn't care if Davey showed up in his pajamas.) Davey makes a hasty attempt to comb his unruly hair back down and smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt as he climbs the stairs.

Davey slides the deadbolt open, the flowers awkwardly clutched in his casted hand, apologies already on his lips. "Hey, sorry I'm late, Denton snagged me and I-" Davey trails off as he steps into the apartment, his eyes wide in shock.

The place has been thoroughly cleaned and tidied, and there's a trio of red candles lit on the end of the breakfast bar. Jack is standing by the counter, wearing a rare button-down that's tucked into his jeans, and he must've heard Davey coming because he's watching the doorway expectantly - he's said before that he recognizes Davey's stride and can usually hear him from at least the floor below. The felisian wipes his palms on his jeans and offers a nervous smile.

The tiny bouquet in Davey's clammy palm suddenly feels woefully inadequate.

"I know it ain't much," Jack says, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "But ya said you wanted somethin' simple, so I thought we'd have a night in. Ya know, just us. Spot and Race's gone for the weekend, so's just us, and figured we could have dinner and-" The rest of Jack's sentence evaporates into the air when Davey crosses the room in two quick steps and kisses him hard.

"This is perfect," Davey says when they finally part. "It's exactly what I wanted." He suddenly becomes aware of the flowers in his hand again and feels a blush crawl up into his ears. Clearing his throat, he offers them out with a tentative, "I, uh, got you these. I know you don't like roses, but I remember you said you like lilies, so I - yeah."

The felisian's face brightens as he looks at the pitiful little handful of white flowers, a couple of them slightly wilted at the edges from sitting in his dorm through the morning. "I can't believe ya remembered that," Jack says, accepting the flowers almost reverently. "When did we even talk 'bout that?"

Davey shrugs. "I don't know," he admits, chuckling awkwardly. "I just remember you said you liked them because their shape is so different from other flowers."

Jack gives him an awed look, his smile softening at the edges the way it does when he's pleased. "You're amazing, ya know that?" he says. "Uh, one sec, I'mma," he gestures to the flowers and then slips into the kitchen. Davey watches curiously as he opens several cupboards before pulling out a large vase of blue glass shaped into abstract curves. As the felisian fills it from the tap, some of Davey's surprise must show on his face because Jack chuckles. "The vase, right?" he guesses.

"A little surprised you own one, yeah," Davey says, grinning.

"We got a couple, ach'lly," says Jack. He sets the vase on the countertop and unties the ribbon around the flowers so he can slip them into the water. "Spot gets Racer flowers all the time, so we've collected a few."

Davey raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have taken Spot as a flowers kind of guy."

Smirking, Jack snorts eloquently. "He's a secret softie, remember?" he teases. "Don't even do it for like holidays or birthdays or whatever, he just gets 'em randomly."

"And to think he calls you the sap," Davey shoots back with a laugh. Jack echoes it, his tail flicking in a decidedly playful way. The felisian fusses with the flowers for a minute more before he's apparently satisfied with how they're arranged, and then he carries the vase over to set it in the middle of the dining table. "So," Davey starts when Jack turns around, "what's the plan?"

"Don't got a set plan," Jack says. "I mean, thought we'd do dinner, but other than that, thought we'd just sorta wing it, ya know? Have a lazy, normal couple night. No plans or school or work, just you and me. Unless there's somethin' specific you wanna do, I mean..."

Davey smiles, reaching out to take his boyfriend's hand reassuringly. "Lazy and normal sounds great," he says. "I could use a break from everything else." Drawing Jack closer, Davey pulls him into another kiss, this one softer and slower. "I love you."

Jack hums, claiming Davey's lips again. A small stutter of purr rolls up before Davey feels Jack tense, his instinctive reaction to any noise he was raised to hide. Then, a second later, the felisian exhales, and his muscles loosen again, the rumble reemerging. Davey could cry from the simple gesture as he lays his palm on Jack's chest, feeling the vibrations beneath his touch.

The purr dims when Jack finally pulls back, although he keeps his forehead pressed to Davey's. "You too, babe," he says, smiling, and he nudges his nose against Davey's cheek. Sneaking one last, quick kiss, Jack steps back and grins. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Davey agrees with a nod. "What's for dinner?"

"Lasagna," Jack says, beaming eagerly.

Davey bites back a chuckle. "Is it bad that I sort of expected you to make a Garfield joke there?"

The felisian barks a surprised laugh, the one where he actually throws his head back and his tail sweeps up into a loose curl. "Shit, how did I not think of that?" he says, an enormous grin splitting his face. "That's hilarious. I ever mentioned I fuckin' love you?"

"Once or twice," Davey responds, smirking. "But you're always welcome to say it more."

Jack chuckles, tugging Davey in for another kiss. "Well, then, I fuckin' love you," he says. "Now c'mon, we got some dinner to make."

Davey lifts an eyebrow. "Oh, you're actually letting me help tonight?"

"You're the one wanted to be all domestic and shit," Jack says, his eyes sparking mischievously. "So we're gonna make dinner together, and even gonna eat at the table like proper grown-ups." Davey laughs appreciatively, letting Jack drag him by the hand into the kitchen. "Think you can manage stirring with your hand all busted?"

"I do have two hands," Davey reminds him.

"Well, yeah, but ya can't usually keep that one off me," the felisian jokes with a wink. Davey snorts, shoving at Jack's shoulder playfully. "See, already got your hands all over me. You're - what's that word ya always use? Incorrigible."

Davey smirks, his standard reply to comments like that slipping out from habit. "Pot, kettle."

Jack giggles, his ears flitting in amusement. "A'ight, handsy, you're on sauce duty then," he says. "Let's make some lasagna. Ya know it's a cat's favorite dinner." Davey laughs, rolling his eyes for good measure.

The apartment's galley kitchen really isn't big enough for two people to be cooking at once, and they wind up bumping into each other more often than not. It mostly just sends them into fits of giggles, and Jack uses every opportunity of contact to sneak a kiss. The felisian sings off and on while he's cooking, little snatches of song as they come to him, and the familiarity of it eases any lingering stress out of Davey's muscles. Jack is a surprisingly good singer - a talent he attributes to spending years hanging out in Medda's theatre - but he always coaxes Davey into joining in, even though he's a little tone-deaf on a good day.

By the time they get the dinner laid out on the table, Davey's stomach hurts from laughing. Jack pulls out his chair for him, and Davey blushes as he sits. The felisian promptly drags his chair around next to Davey's, turning it sideways so his tail can hang off the back, and sits so their knees brush under the table. They dish up, and Davey takes a curious bite of the lasagna. "It's only a _little_  burnt," he says, sending Jack into another burst of laughter. They might've gotten a little distracted making-out against the counter and forgotten to pay attention to the oven timer. "But other than that, it's good."

"Yeah, think we make a good team," Jack agrees, and his tail swings over to brush against Davey's elbow. "But we get our own place, we're definitely lookin' for a bigger kitchen." Jack seems to realize what he said at the same time Davey does, his cheeks turning a bright magenta and his ears folding back nervously. "I, uh - not that I's saying we're gonna move in together or nothin'. Least not, ya know, soon. I mean, unless you wanna, but - Help? I'm diggin' myself in a hole here."

Davey laughs, leaning over to kiss Jack affectionately because it's always melted his heart to see Jack get flustered in the way he only does around Davey. His heart is hammering against his ribs, the very real implications behind that suggestion a little bit terrifying, but he swallows and nods. "Whenever we get to that point," he says determinedly, "we'll find a place with a better kitchen."

The felisian's face immediately brightens, although the blush doesn't fade. "Sounds good," he says. Clearing his throat, he glances around and then says, "Oh, I tell ya, Crutchie asked his girl out?"

Seizing onto the change of topic, Davey shakes his head. "No way, he really did it? That's great. He was gonna ask her to prom, right?"

"Yeah, asked her Monday," Jack says. "Then he called me freaking out 'cause he's all worried about what if he wears somethin' that clashes with her dress and what was he thinkin' asking anyone to a dance when he don't know how to dance? Think he's worried 'bout the leg, but I told him the girl said yes knowing 'bout his leg, so obviously it don't matter to her."

"That's really sweet, I'm happy for him," Davey says. He only met them less than two weeks ago, but Davey was instantly taken with Jack's patchwork family. They're a strange blend of personalities, but they're all so open and caring and genuinely love each other. "Can't wait to see pictures."

They slip into idle chatter as they eat, a warm, comfortable simplicity to it. Jack talks about his siblings and the new employee at the coffee shop who's driving him crazy, while Davey fills him in on his last doctor's appointment about his arm and the ridiculously long conversation with his professor about midterms. It's a welcome chance to enjoy that easy connection they've had from the start, that perfect comfort of just existing together that they haven't been able to soak in as much lately with things so busy.

After dinner, they migrate to the sofa, where Jack scrolls through Netflix for a minute before settling on the newest documentary about history's most notorious outlaws. "You don't like these shows," Davey says, glancing down at where his boyfriend is making himself comfortable sprawled across Davey's torso. It's a typical lounge position for them, Davey propped against the corner of the sofa while Jack lays on his stomach between Davey's legs so his tail isn't trapped.

"Nah, don't mind these ones," Jack says, settling his cheek on Davey's sternum. "It's the serial killer ones freak me out. 'Sides, saw this one got an episode 'bout Bonnie and Clyde. They were wild."

Davey laughs. "Not exactly what I'd call hashtag-relationship-goals," he says, prompting a giggle out of the felisian. "But there was no denying they definitely lived life to the fullest, I guess." Still, Davey recognizes what Jack's doing, putting on something he knows Davey will enjoy even though it's not exactly Jack's cup of tea. Davey lays his arm over Jack's shoulders, idly rubbing that spot where Jack's skull gives way to the muscles and nerves at the base of his ear. Jack hums and tilts his head to give him better access.

The show really is good, if a little bit of a dramatization of the facts, and even Jack pays attention through most of it. Of course, he drifts off once or twice, purring silently as he succumbs to the stupor of Davey scratching his ears. Davey doesn't mind, wrapped up in the blissful contentment of the lazy night, and he doesn't even notice he's fading too until he feels Jack sitting up.

"C'mon, let's go to bed," Jack says, grinning softly. "Ya still got class in the mornin'."

Davey lets Jack pull him to his feet, but he tightens his grip to stop Jack before he can move. "Thank you, Jack," he says sincerely. "This was exactly what I needed. It - tonight was perfect." And then he wraps his arms around Jack, hugging him tightly.

Jack nuzzles into the side of Davey's neck, his ribs vibrating against Davey's. "Me too," he agrees. "You're the best, and ya deserve nights like this. And I know things is gonna get a bit busy with midterms comin' up, but I'm gonna try real hard to make sure we still get date nights like this more. I like just bein' with you, feels good. Makes everythin' else easier." Then Davey feels Jack's ears perk against his neck, and the felisian pulls back. "Oh, speakin' of midterms," he says with far more excitement than anyone should have when talking about the upcoming tests, "got one more thing. C'mere."

Davey follows Jack into the bedroom curiously, and Jack picks up a box from his side table, offering it out to Davey with a grin. It's a plain cardboard box about the size and shape of a shoebox, with a large, curly red bow stuck on top. "What's this?" Davey asks, bemused.

"A present, dummy," Jack responds with a laugh. "It's nothin' big," he goes on, talking over Davey's protest before it can start. "Promise. Just wanted to getcha somethin'. And you can't say nothing 'cause you got me flowers anyway, so you broke the no-presents rule first."

"Flowers aren't really a present," Davey counters, but he knows it's a weak argument. Accepting the box, Davey pries the lid off and peers into the box. Inside is a compact little CD player, a glossy red and silver with large, round speakers on the sides. "Oh, Jack..."

"Like I said, ain't much," Jack says. "But you said yours kept dyin' on ya, and I know ya like havin' your yogi CDs on when you're studying, and with midterms comin', I thought that'd help ya."

Davey bites his lip, feeling the corners of his eyes prickle again. "You are the best," he says gratefully. It's such a little detail, something even Davey wasn't giving much thought to, and the fact that Jack _did_ think of it makes his bones feel like gelatin. "This is - I love it. I love you."

The felisian chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I did good?"

"Perfect," Davey agrees, laughing so he doesn't cry. "A-plus with a gold star." He closes the box and sets it back on Jack's nightstand before grabbing Jack's wrist. Taking a step backward toward the bed, Davey says, "I know we said lazy night, but I'm not feeling very lazy right now. You?"

Jack's smile slants up into something devious, and Davey recognizes the predatory pose when his ears pivot back and his tail stills except for the sharp twitches of the very tip, a hunter ready to pounce. "Already had a li'l nap, not gonna be able to sleep 'less I wear myself out now," the felisian says. He stalks closer until Davey's legs bump against the mattress, and then flashes that smirk that never fails to make Davey's heart race, even after all these months. "'Sides, it's Valentine's, right? What kinda couple'd we be if we didn't?"

"Sometimes you talk too much," Davey teases and lunges forward to kiss Jack. He laughs against Davey's lips, leaning into the gesture so eagerly Davey loses his balance and tips backward onto the bed, tugging Jack along with him. They land in a heap on top of the blankets, breathless and giggling. "That was graceful," Davey murmurs in amusement.

"Ya know me, I got all the moves," Jack replies, pushing up onto his elbows to brace himself above Davey. "Only the best for my fella." And as the felisian reclaims his mouth, a hint of a growl rumbling through his chest, Davey thinks he's endlessly grateful to be this man's fella.


End file.
